| Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to radio «Redline»
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| Directly from Norsborg
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| And this beautiful Thursday night, we have Carlito with us
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| From the Ayla collective
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| A warm applause
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| We left our home and fled when I was 5 years old
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| From the poor east to the rich west
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| Because mother wanted to give her son what was best
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| A better life out of the stress of poverty
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| So one day in 1986, my dad told me we were going on vacation
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| Took my things and packed our bags
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| Calm and quiet without further protests
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| From the window of the car I saw everything disappear
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| Inside the dense fog of the past
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| That was the last time I saw my neighborhood
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| The place where I took my first steps
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| But I never knew what to expect
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| Until we got out of the car when they took my hand
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| And said «my son here is our new country»
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| Va? |
| Here is our new country
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, taking step by step again
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, and taking it step by step
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| As a child in Sweden, I learned quickly
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| It was not my country I was blattepack
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| Went from small and sad to young and lackluster
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| Who got enough and hit to avoid talking
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| But despite all the crunch, there are good times
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| I remember when using paper ladders
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| Solidarity was the big word
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| Before Sweden was called after the «Palm murder»
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| When we were them all the way in our neighborhood
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| With different names and linguistic errors
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| We are the Finns in the park who throat the booze
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| And gave children money when they emptied the shit
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| It was Sweden then as I remember it
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| The happy 80's in the yellow and blue
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| It was Sweden then as I remember it
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| The happy 80's in the yellow and blue
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, taking step by step again
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, and taking it step by step
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| Then came the 90s and Sweden went crazy
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| Racist and dangerous for blackheads on a daily basis
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| The party was over and many wanted to stay
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| Get rid of all packs through new democracy
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| Got today's resistance, arson and letter bomb
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| Stone throwing and battle singing all to get
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| Us to understand and really feel
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| That we in Sweden did not belong
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| Every weekend it was the same song
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| We meet with racists time and time again
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| Because it's a civil war between us and them
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| So blood, sweat and tears became everyday food
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| So my anger led and hatred followed
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| But when I think about it, it feels good
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| The past has created who I am today
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| The past has created who I am today
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, taking step by step again
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| Looking back, I see the path I once walked
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| Looking back, and taking it step by step |